


How to Date Your Hoochmate

by missmollyetc



Category: Tour of Duty (1987)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-12
Updated: 2010-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruiz and Taylor are stuck in the middle of Vietnam with shit detail on one side, and boiling heat on the other.  What's a soldier to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Date Your Hoochmate

Ruiz sits on a wall of carefully stacked sand bags and watches Taylor cautiously stringing concertina wire across their perimeter. Midday at Ladybird is holding true to form, Ruiz lost his shirt sometime between sandbag twelve and six hundred, not even bothering to slather on any of the shit sun block they've been issued. The crap melts off after ten minutes and attracts every mosquito within five klicks. Malaria, he does not need, gracias.

Taylor didn't even bother to put his on this morning. He took one look at the sky, shook his head, and declared himself "sadly forced to shame y'all by revealing the kind of physical perfection only read about in Superman." He'd wrapped the over shirt around his slim waist, the tank top around his head, settled his towel around his neck, and spent the rest of the morning flexing his muscles until the Sarge had yelled at him to put his spaghetti arms to use bucking up the defenses.

Right now, Taylor's bent over, the wire loops held loosely in his hands. His mouth is half open, the tip of his tongue peeking out of a corner as he concentrates. Ruiz hates concertina wire, one misstep, one distraction, and whoops! There goes your whole fucking hand. But, fuck, if he doesn't know what they'd do without it. Hell, he never wants to get near a place wrapped in a strand of it, let alone the bales of the shit they got looped around the firebase. He doesn't know how Charlie does it, crazy motherfuckers.

It's good that Taylor's concentrating, keeping his hands steady and watching his feet near the ditch they all dug yesterday. Ruiz can tell he's nervous--no one likes having their back to the bush--Taylor's walking as fast as he can and not cut himself. He's biting his lower lip, glancing up every now and then to check that the coils haven't fallen into the ditch. He's smiling, mouth stretching at the sides, happy that he's almost done. He licks his lips, and Ruiz looks down at his lap.

He rubs his hands together and watches the sweat turn the dust covering him to mud. Fuck, he stinks. He looks up, and Taylor's still smiling. He picks a thread from his pants and concentrates on breaking it off.

You're only supposed to kiss chicks, he thinks. So that's why he never kisses Taylor. He'll lick the arch of Taylor's neck, suck on his Adam's apple...hell, if there's time, he'll even nibble his way down Taylor's chest, but none of that is like kissing. Kissing is...kissing is girl stuff. They aren't girls--hell no, he ain't a girl.

Still, it seems kinda funny to him--even in his own head-- that he could suck Taylor's cock into his mouth, could fuck him against the wall of a foxhole, but kissing Taylor is the shit that freaks him out. It sure as fuck does though, because kissing is far too much like...dating. If you kiss someone, you're dating them--going to the movies and walking them to their door at night. Introducing them to your mom and, shit, buying curtains or something. Sweet stuff like that.

Nothing he and Taylor do together is sweet. A hand job in the shower, getting blown in a foxhole, rubbing off on each other in the hootch...at what point was he supposed to fit in going off to see Casablanca, or some shit like that? That ain't them...that ain't even an option.

Taylor likes girls. Ruiz likes girls. What they've got is a tide over thing, a young-and-horny type thing, there's nothing special here. Nothing--

A hand tugging at his elbow jerks Ruiz back to reality. He looks behind him and Taylor smiles, motioning slightly with his head. He nods back.

Taylor walks away behind the storage tent and, after a minute, Ruiz follows him.

Before he even fully turns the corner, Taylor has him by the hips. He yanks Ruiz close and pushes him through the open flap of the tent door and against a stack of crates.

His shoulders hit the rough wooden slats, and Ruiz hisses. "Gonna get splinters in my fucking neck!"

He pushes forward and Taylor uses his grip on Ruiz's ass to shove him off-balance, forcing him to grab onto Taylor's upper arms.

Taylor buries his head in Ruiz's neck and rubs his whole body against Ruiz. "Been waiting for you all day," he says. "All that...looking at me..."

"Yeah?" Ruiz swallows. He hits the back of his head on the top crate as Taylor bites down on the place where his neck meets his shoulder. Ruiz shudders, hips jerking forward to meet Taylor's. He can feel Taylor's cock poking his thigh.

Fucking bunker is burning. He gasps for air, staring up at the tent roof with his mouth gaping open. He can feel sweat pouring down his back, his hands are sticky with it, leaving smears of dirt across Taylor's chest, his arms. Taylor licks the bite on Ruiz's neck and breathes over the spot. Ruiz's skin prickles.

"Oh yeah," Taylor says in between licks. "Seein' you walk around all day...no shirt...digging...cleaning that big gun of yours...so fucking sexy."

"I do that every day," Ruiz says.

"Exactly," Taylor growls. His head jerks up, he catches Ruiz's eyes and holds them.

Taylor's eyes are fierce, intent. Ruiz swallows. He shifts against Taylor. Taylor's eyelids flutter, but he doesn't look away. He grips Ruiz harder, grinding him into the crates. Ruiz pushes back, staring into Taylor's face an inch from his own.

Everything is too hot. The sun beating down on them through the tent, the air itself burning through his clothes, and the hottest thing of all is Taylor staring at him like he's a ticket home and an ice cold brew. He moans low in his throat and drives against Taylor, opening his legs wide enough that Taylor can slip a thigh in between them. He feels his cock digging into his stomach. He tugs on Taylor's arms, dragging him forward until their foreheads are touching.

Hot breath steals over Ruiz's face. Taylor's chin is digging into his. Their hips jerking against each other, finding a rhythm, then breaking it and finding it again. They're biting their lips to stifle their grunts, their moans. He can feel Taylor on every part of him, pressing him into the stack of crates, seeping through skin to skin on their chests, the heat burning him to the bone and it isn't enough, it isn't close to enough, he wants more than this, more more more. He wants to fuck Taylor so hard he screams, wants to feel Taylor inside him balls deep and fucking him raw. Fuck pain, fuck noise, fuck everything--

"Harder," Ruiz hisses. "Harder."

Taylor makes some broken sound and grinds his entire body into Ruiz, hooking his fingers into his belt and pulling so hard the waist band digs into Ruiz's back. Taylor's eyes are killing him. Sweat streams off someone's face and Taylor's head slips down and to the side.

Their lips are touching.

Ruiz growls. He lunges forward and digs his teeth into Taylor's lower lip, latching on and tugging until their teeth clack together. Taylor moans and Ruiz's mouth opens, sealing their lips together.

Taylor's tongue slips into his mouth like he's done it every time before and tangles with his own, sliding and slipping around his mouth and sucking on Ruiz's tongue like he just wants to eat him whole. Ruiz lurches against Taylor. Taylor thrusts back just as hard.

The crates are shaking, rattling, threatening to fall with each rock of their bodies. The heat is baking them to nothing and someone is bound to come by soon. Someone has to be able to hear them, but, he and Taylor are kissing. Taylor tastes like nothing he's ever had before and oh, oh, Dios mio--

With a choked groan, Ruiz comes, shuddering against Taylor, slumping against the crates, which shift but, thankfully, settle back onto each other. His nerveless fingers slide down to catch in the shirt wrapped around Taylor's waist. He pants into Taylor's mouth while Taylor thrusts a few more times against his stomach and comes.

Taylor leans against Ruiz, letting him take his weight, and kisses his mouth over and over with soft, wet kisses, hardly lifting his mouth before diving back to do it again.

Ruiz lets go when Taylor steps back and blinks at him rapidly. It's so dark now, Ruiz can't understand how he could have even seen Taylor's eyes to begin with.

"Well," Taylor croaks. He swallows and licks his swollen lips, gazing off to the side.

"Yeah," Ruiz says. He looks down at his boots. He eyes the stain on his pants, figures he can maybe pass it off like a sweat stain if nobody gets too close. Or smells him. Or sees him. He touches a finger to his lips.

He looks up, and sees Taylor staring at him. "So...you wanna see a movie?"


End file.
